


Swept Away

by orphan_account



Category: Smosh
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut, imagine, no really there isn't even a hint of plot in this, yes it's one of those things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's early, too early to be awake in your opinion. you don't know what woke you up at seven in the morning, but it might have been something to do with the fact it's too hot with ian's arm over your hips to sleep comfortably, even with all the sheets kicked off the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swept Away

**Author's Note:**

> so. this was meant to be more like 200 words long but it turned into this monstrosity. based on an imagine ask i left for [iansthighs](http://iansthighs.tumblr.com) on tumblr! apologies for the lack of capitalisation in here but hey, it's late over here.

it's early, too early to be awake in your opinion. you don't know what woke you up at seven in the morning, but it might have been something to do with the fact it's too hot with ian's arm over your hips to sleep comfortably, even with all the sheets kicked off the bed. you untangle yourself from ian's grasp, admiring his determination to keep hold of you even when he's asleep. he grumbles and you still as you reach the door, hand extended towards the handle, waiting until he settles down again before making your way down the hallway, then the stairs.

it is thankfully cooler downstairs and the tiled floor in the kitchen is almost heavenly against your bare feet. you tiredly and clumsily manage to get the coffee machine working - god knows that you need some caffeine right now - swaying your hips while you impatiently wait for it to finish brewing. a glance at the clock reveals that it's only ten minutes since you looked over at the alarm clock while still in bed. yeah, it's going to be one of those days, what with ian busy off filming. you wonder for a moment if kalel is busy and decide that you'll call her once the rest of the world is awake.

one cup of coffee down and you're feeling more awake, leaning forward over the counter with your laptop in front of you, just lazily scrolling through your twitter feed for lack of anything better to do. you hear movement upstairs but don't move; knowing ian he'll use the bathroom, grab a glass of water and sleep until he really has to get up. he has a long few days of filming coming up after all. just in case he comes downstairs, you put the coffee back on to brew before returning to your laptop.

with your back to the door and head wandering off somewhere else, you don't notice ian enter the room until he has his hips pressed up against yours. he presses you forwards into the counter, forcing you to straighten up or have your face pressed against the wall instead. you feel ian's hands curl around your hips as he pulls you back against him, feeling him half-hard against the small of your back.  
"good morning," he murmurs, voice slick with sleep and arousal. you take a deep breath and stand up, pressing your back to his bare chest while raising an eyebrow.  
"and to what do i owe this pleasure?" you quip, the end of your question trailing into a whimper when ian bites at the spot of skin between your neck and the strap on your tank top. he smirks against your skin and wraps an arm around your body, tucking his fingers into the loose shorts you slept in.  
"i could ask you the same, standing here with your pretty little ass in the air..." ian nips the skin at your neck and presses his hand further under the waistband of your shorts. his voice is still gruff and something about it sends shivers right down to your core. he grips your hip tighter with the hand that isn't working its way underneath your clothing, tight enough that it hurts.

you roll your hips into his and take in a sharp breath when ian's fingers slide over your clit, and your motion draws a groan from his lips. the hand that was on your hip pushes up one side of your tank top, exposing the smooth skin at your stomach. ian's rough fingers dance over your stomach and up onto the soft mound of your breast, causing your hips to press back again, your hands pressing against the edge of the counter that ian has your pinned against. the fingers that had been resting against your nub slide against you again, pulling a whine from deep in your throat, something which your partner must approve of because then he's kissing along the gentle curve of your jaw, catching the side of your lips in a kiss. he still tastes like sleep but you can't bring yourself to care, not when his body presses you closer against the counter, the edge of the granite surface digging into your hip. ian makes a noise of approval when you bend your knees to get more friction against his hand, his breath hot against the side of your neck.  
"bed?" you suggest, ready to discard your clothes and all but sprint upstairs, but ian has a different idea. he pulls his hands away from you and grips your sides hard, spinning you around to face him. by instinct you slide your arms around his shoulders and stand on tip toes to kiss him. the kiss has an air of neediness to it, only added to by ian's hand sliding over your thigh and guiding you to hook your leg around his hips. he's only wearing a pair of boxers which do nothing to disguise how hard he is and through the two thin layers of fabric between you, you can feel every inch of him pressed against your hip. ian shakes his head and smirks.  
"no. here. now." his voice is commanding, not even a hint of questioning lingering as he pulls you closer and kisses you again, while his hands are working to get your shirt over the gentle swell of your breasts.

ian ducks his head and slides his tongue against one of your nipples, letting his teeth catch against you gently. you tip your head back and close your eyes, blindly running a hand from ian's chest all the way down until you hook your fingers under his boxers and pull them down just enough to free his erection from the fabric. his hips rut forwards and you fold your fingers around him, letting him fuck into your grip and smear the precum beading at his head down his shaft. ian moans and moves his lips from your breast to the space between them, leaning down to trail wet and messy kisses down your stomach.

you release your grip around his cock as ian kneels in front of you and reaches up to tug your shorts down, insistently guiding you to kick them off into the corner. his hand tightly grips your thigh and you inhale sharply at what's about to come, catching a glimpse of ian smirking before he presses his lips to your inner thigh. he bites, licks and kisses and damn, he knows how to get you fired up, because by the time he's giving gentle licks to your clit you're already falling apart. his fingers are bruising your thigh where they're holding onto you and you're torn between paying attention to that and paying attention to his mouth on you, his tongue alternating between pressing and teasing. ian hasn't shaved yet and you can feel his stubble graze your sensitive skin every time he moves. you reach up and slide your shirt off, finally tangling your fingers into the mess of hair on top of ian's head before giving a short, sharp tug.

he breathes in against you, letting out a groan that draws a shudder from you, and then ian is pulling away with slick lips, his tongue darting out to taste you once more before he stands up. ian kicks off his boxers and raises an eyebrow at you. he looks positively devilish with a smile plastered across his face and his hair sticking to his forehead as he spins you around again and presses the tip of his length against you. you moan from deep in your throat, a sound that turns into a hiss of pain when ian's hand finds your hip again and grips firmly. waiting for you to give him the go-ahead, he spends a few seconds teasing you, bending his knees just enough to allow him to slide his head from your entrance to your clit and back again.

eventually you cave in and press back against ian. he slides inside you and you both moan, his head resting up against your shoulder where he bites down gently.  
"you feel so good, baby," he says softly, his voice wrecked from lack of sleep and your tight heat around him. ian gives you barely enough time to adjust before he's trusting into you. he's rarely gentle but he knows that that's the way you like things, so he goes out of his way to bite a little too hard and to dig his fingers into your flesh as he fucks you. he's pressing you up against the counter so hard that you're sure it's going to bruise your stomach, but with the deep heat bubbling inside you it's a mere inconvenience.

he slips his hand from your hip and twists his wrist until he can get his fingers to press against where he's sliding in an out of you. you tip your head back and hold yourself up against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold tile and whole body shaking with the force of ian's thrusts. by now, you're panting and shaking apart in front of him, and ian knows this. it's too early for teasing, he decided that a while ago, so he wastes no time in working his fingertips against you and letting out a self-indulgent groan every time you tense around him. ian's free hand is holding onto your hip, warm fingers moving to lift your leg up onto the counter with ease.

you arch your back and press your hips back to ian's, resisting the urge to flatten your chest against the counter to cool your feverish skin. he hasn't moved his hand from your thigh yet and he's holding on so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks, ones which raise eyebrows when you wear anything that shows the skin above your knees. you manage to choke out a small sentence when his lips find the side of your neck and work over your skin, a welcome contrast to the sharp bites he also deals out freely. with ian's hand working against you, you're close, so close. you reach a clammy hand down to press ian's fingers harder against you and when he murmurs, "that's it, come for me," against the shell of your ear, that's all it takes.

you spill over the edge suddenly and unexpectedly, clenching tight around ian's length. a moan tumbles from your mouth and you feel like you've been punched in the stomach in the best kind of way. he never stills, doesn't stop to let you catch your breath or become less sensitive. ian makes you squirm for the next minute or so, his now slick fingers still pressing fast, torturous circles up against you. ian doesn't let you come down, preferring to keep you on the edge for as long as he can, until he's ready. he adjusts the angle of his hips and goes from long, hard strokes of his hips to fast and shallow ones. from the hitches of his breath you know he's close, but so are you, and it's all too much, overwhelming you as you throw your head back and come again, closing your eyes tight enough to make white spots dance behind your eyelids.

even when ian pulls out and comes across your lower back with a grunt of your name he doesn't stop moving his fingers, though now they're slower and far less rough. you breathe in deep a few times and let out a shallow laugh, playfully shoving ian's hand away from you.  
"quit it, asshole," you tease, finally lowering your leg from where it had been resting on the counter and turning around to face your partner. ian has a sleepy grin plastered on his face when you lean up to kiss him, slow and lazy and deep.  
"think we should shower?" he murmurs against your lips, his thumbs circling the new bruises over your hip bones. you nod and, as he pulls away, he smirks. "i'll remember you telling me to quit it for next time. just you wait."

**Author's Note:**

> title is from swept away by the xx.


End file.
